


Love and Sacrifice

by AgentRC



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Love, Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-03 23:26:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5311085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentRC/pseuds/AgentRC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma is full of guilt at what she is putting Fitz through, their relationship is in tatters, Will is still on the blue planet.<br/>She still doesn't know who to choose.<br/> </p><p>Cannon until at least 3x08.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Guys,
> 
> I've been reading fanfics for a long time, yet this is the first one I've written.   
> My plan is to write some more chapters for this story, but we'll see how it goes.  
> So, I don't know how good it is, but please read, and leave comments to let me know what you think; I'd really appreciate it. :)
> 
> AgentRC

_We’re cursed._

The words repeated in Jemma’s mind, over and over again. It had been bitter sweet. She still felt the touch of his lips; the moment had been ingrained into her brain. It had been so familiar, yet so strange at the same time. Leo Fitz had been a part of her life for more than ten years; she knew of all his mannerisms and idiosyncrasies, all his moods and emotions, all his thoughts and dreams. Yet, throughout most of that time, they had never thought of each other as more than friends, albeit very close friends. Then he had admitted his love for her, and it had caught her by surprise. Giving her the last breath, he had willingly sacrificed himself to save her, and thankfully survived, much to her relief. Their relationship was in tatters; a chasm had developed and for a long time, she believed it might never heal. Yet they had gotten through it, like they always did. Their relationship was on the mend, and was maybe going to develop into something more... Then, it all went pear shaped. The damn monolith made sure of that.

_The bloody cosmos wants us apart!_

The conversation echoed again in her mind again. Jemma had dismissed such a thought when Fitz threw it at her. Ever the pragmatist, she would not let such silly notions be mouthed in front of her, repudiating it like it was a reflex. After all, she was a woman of science! However, as she lay in bed mulling over what happened mere hours before, she began to think it couldn’t be more right. They had almost gone out on a date, only for her to have been swept off onto another planet. How often did that happen to people??

 

But that wasn’t the worst of it. Jemma had met someone else there, and his name was Will Daniels. They had protected each other, given each other hope in the middle of nowhere, on a desolate planet light years from their own. She couldn’t just abandon him, she owed him. For a long time, Jemma thought it would be in Fitz’s best interest for him to not know about Will, but she knew deep down he had to know, he _deserved_ to know. After everything he had been through to get her, the dangers he faced, not even thinking about the risks he was taking, it would be an insult for him to not know.

 

So she told him everything, and he had listened to her tale. Once she had finished, he had gotten up and immediately left to go to their lab. His fingers had whizzed across the keyboard, and the screen was instantly filled with scans, diagnostics, schematics and the like, all pertaining to one thing: the monolith. He had put on a brave face, and looked directly into her eyes as he spoke, “We’re going to get him back.”

 

She was stunned at how he’d been willing to help, though now that she really thought about it, _of course he was going to help_. This was the man who would help her come hell or high water. And the more she thought about the predicament that he was in, that she had forced him into, the guiltier she felt. Her stomach did twists and turns every time her mind wandered in that direction.

 

The days following were somewhat awkward, and their relationship appeared to be in limbo. That was until she had decided to show him the recordings on her phone, and their relationship appeared to be improving. But then she herself snapped. He had been doing all the right things. Fitz had put his own happiness aside so she could have hers. He was working tirelessly to ensure that Will could get back, regurgitating information he had painfully collected over the six months that she had been on the blue planet. She could tell that he was hurting, that he was crestfallen. Yet this was Fitz, and he was putting on a brave face, casting his own emotions aside and devoting his energy to helping Jemma get her _boyfriend_ back. What had she ever done to deserve someone like him?

 

The kiss that came after the arguing was surreal. It felt like he had kissed on impulse, without thinking. But she liked it, so had pulled him back, and held her lips to his. It had felt divine, and part of her had wanted to explore this relationship with him, but he had drawn away.

 

_We’re cursed._

 

Those words came back to haunt her, and with all these thoughts going through her mind, Jemma Simmons drifted into an uncomfortable sleep.

 

***

 

A new day dawned, and Jemma had thought of avoiding the lab that morning; after what happened there yesterday, she had no intention of approaching Fitz. Unfortunately, by a rather wicked twist of fate, he had thought of the same thing, and was making a mug of tea in the kitchen as she approached.

 

Of course he was there, she mentally kicked herself for not realising; they did share each others’ thoughts, after all.

 

As he turned around and realised she was standing in the doorway, he immediately caught her stare and looked at the floor.

 

“Morning Fitz,” she tried cheerfully, but her voice ended up being shaky and uneven.

 

He didn’t look up at her, but acknowledged her greeting with a nod, picked up his cuppa, and walked swiftly past. Great. Now he’s avoiding me, she thought. She knew where he was headed, so after some light breakfast (not that she could’ve eaten much anyway), she walked briskly to the lab.

 

She found Fitz staring with deep concentration at one of the screens, filled with monolith diagnostics. She felt that pang of guilt in her stomach; of course he would be doing work on trying to open the portal. Clearing her throat to announce her presence, she walked in and immediately started working on those blood reports that Coulson had asked her to analyse.

 

The proceeding moments were filled with silence, as the two worked separately on achieving their objectives, until Fitz started talking, “I’ve isolated and tested the constituents of the monolith. It seems to be composed of an organic matrix laced with inorganic compounds. The data seems to suggest…”

 

He waited, as if anticipating she would jump in and start finishing his sentences, like she always did. When no reply came, he continued, “…suggest that there is quantum entanglement involved. I’m no physicist, but if this is true, then we’ll need to do a bit of light reading on quantum mechanics if we are to see any progress, and get Wi--“, he paused and appeared to have swallowed a boulder, “and get your friend back.”

 

And there it was again, that guilt in the pit of her stomach. She felt tears beginning to well in her eyes, but tried her best to keep them at bay. “Fitz…I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this, I’m--”

 

She was abruptly interrupted by the object of her attention, “Jemma, stop. About what happened yesterday,” his voice grew ever more distant as he continued, “I’m sorry that I…kissed you.” She felt stung at that. She didn’t want him to feel sorry about that. She wanted him to have enjoyed it as much as she did. “I didn’t mean to make things more complicated than they already were for you.”

 

And there it was again. He was consistently going out of his way; he was putting his own happiness aside so she could have an easier life.

 

He continued, trying and failing miserably at controlling his shaking voice, “I…I’ll try my best to keep my emotions out of this.” At that sentence, her tears began to fall. She felt a strong urge to hug him until her arms felt numb, but as she took a step forward, he took a step back. Despair shot through her, like a bullet to the brain. How did their relationship end up so broken??

 

At the sight of her tears, his immediate reaction was to pull her into an embracing hug, but he decided against it; every time he got close to her, it just made it that much harder to let go in the end. So, however guilty he felt, he knew he couldn’t console her, so gave her the most convincing it-is-going-to-be-alright smile he could muster, and returned to his work.

 

Silence fell in the lab, as sorrow hung thick in the air. She knew he had started letting go. She didn’t want him to, but this was his choice. Would it be selfish for her to convince him otherwise? She still didn’t know who to choose. Will was still on the blue planet, light years away from her. And yet, he still didn’t seem as distant as Fitz was. This was an impossible situation, one she could see no hope of coming out unscathed.

 

She would hurt one man or the other, if it was possible to hurt both more than she already had. She had abandoned Will, and she felt survivor’s guilt every time she was reminded of it. She had betrayed Fitz, and she felt regret when she remembered what he had done, and what he was doing to ensure her happiness.

 

The tears had dried up now, and for that she was thankful. She still had a job to do, and couldn’t risk contaminating the samples that lay in the wells of the testing kit; at least it could get her mind of this complicated predicament she faced. So Jemma focused on the task at hand, like she always did. Time went fast, and soon it was 6pm.

 

As she was finishing up, she turned around only to see Fitz standing directly in front of her. He looked rather flustered.

 

“I think I’ve found something,” he mumbled as he gestured for her to follow him to his workstation. He sat down, with Jemma standing behind him, making sure to keep her space. It seemed like the days where she would gladly have rested her hand on his shoulder were a lifetime ago, given the situation that they were presently in was far from agreeable…

 

He pointed to some text on the screen, outlining how there had been some reported cases of seemingly stationary, black rocks suddenly morphing into a puddle of fluid and then becoming instantly solid again.

 

“I don’t know how I didn’t come across this when I was--”He paused, not knowing quite how to phrase it, “looking for you…But there’s a professor who has been doing research on this stuff. If we could get in contact with him, we might be able to see what he knows of the portal. He’s in Australia though, so it might be a bit of a stretch--”

 

“Let’s do it,” Jemma responded promptly, surprising even herself at how fast the words came out of her mouth. Fitz flinched at her sense of immediacy. She must really want to get Will back quickly, he thought. He tried to hide his disappointment, but Jemma caught on, and mentally kicked herself for having replied so quickly.

 

“Right…well… I’ll send him an email first thing tomorrow morning,” he croaked, now unable to hide the despondency not only in his voice, but on his face. And with that, he promptly walked out, leaving Jemma laden with guilt.

 

***

 

The next day, she had found Fitz in the kitchen, a mug of steaming Earl Grey beside him, typing away on his laptop. He didn’t seem to notice she was there, and after about two minutes of swift key strokes, he closed the lid of his laptop, and headed off to the lab. Once she made a cuppa herself, she trailed him, a few steps behind, ensuring that she did not invade this invisible bubble that he had put up between them.

 

“Simmons, I’ve sent that email,” he spoke, as she entered the lab. She noticed him using her last name; he hadn’t done that since their academy days. She thought they had still been close enough for her to use ‘Jemma’, but maybe that intimacy was slipping away as well. “I’ll let you know as soon as I get a reply,” he mumbled tersely.

 

And so the hours stretched into days, passing by in this exact manner. Fitz would only talk to Jemma when he found anything of use to their goal of rescuing Will. There were no more witty remarks from the engineer, no more of the teasing or joking that he once used to frequently bestow upon her, all his replies were now laconic; she could tell he was detaching himself. He was now curt, prim and proper: straight to the point. And it broke her inside. As every day passed, the chasm in their relationship grew wider. It was all because of her, she lamented, no one was to blame but her…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys,
> 
> So, here is the next chapter, a little earlier than I intended. I hope you enjoy. :)  
> As always, comments are appreciated; it helps me know what you guys think.
> 
> Thanks,  
> AgentRC

Weeks had passed before a reply came from the Professor that Fitz had contacted. He seemed quite enthusiastic at prospect of meeting them, considering there were so few interested in such things.

 

“When do you think we should see him?” queried Fitz.

 

Jemma was cautious of showing too much enthusiasm in her reply this time, wary of how Fitz would react considering the last time, he had looked heartbroken. Slowly, she replied with a conservative, “How about in two weeks?”

 

“Okay, I’ll send him a reply. Could you talk to Coulson about getting some leave?”

 

“Sure thing, Fitz”

 

And that was their interaction for the rest of the afternoon. Fitz busied himself with reading up on the monolith, whilst Jemma went to Coulson to ask for leave. She didn’t expect him to give them any time off, considering how much the team had on their plates. Indeed, he was quite adamant about letting his two best scientists leave, but Coulson saw that she needed this to get Will back, if not for anything else, then at least for closure.

 

“Jemma,” she swivelled around as Coulson spoke, “I don’t know what’s happening between you two right now, but I need you to get along with Fitz.” His demeanour was one of utmost seriousness. She nodded, indicating she understood the gravity of his words. “Besides,” he continued with a smirk on his face, “You two share half a brain, and right now, we need as much brain power as we’ve got.” She gave Coulson a small smile, and turned around to head back to the lab.

 

She returned to a Fitz deeply engrossed in his work, and thought it best to not disturb him. So, she went about doing her own business for the remainder of the afternoon.

 

It was around 7 at night when Fitz finally asked, “Did we get the thumbs up from Coulson?”

 

“Yes, he said he would give us about three days of leave,” she replied.

 

“Right, well, I’ll book us some flights and a hotel. You look exhausted,” he remarked, after seeing her red, sunken eyes, “go get some sle--”

 

“I’m perfectly fine!” she shouted, a little too loud than she intended. He was doing it again; looking out for her health, for her happiness.

 

He heaved out a massive sigh, “What is it now? Did I do something wrong?”

 

“You’re not doing anything wrong! It’s just--”

 

“Just what Jemma?” He interrupted; she could tell his mood was somewhat bellicose and could see anger rising out of his eyes, “Am I ‘doing the right things’ again?” He spat out, as he used his fingers to air quote what she said mere days ago.

 

“Yes! No! I just...” Jemma stuttered, vexation and confusion overtaking her mind as she tried to get the words out, “Stop caring about me so much! I know how much it hurts you to know you are helping me bring back someone I love.”

 

 _Shit. Shit. Shit._ Had she really just said that? The words had escaped through her mouth before she had a chance to catch them. Her stomach was doing back flips. She could feel her knees getting weak, heavy with the guilt of what she had just said.

 

But it was nothing compared to the look on his face. It looked like he had just died inside. She could see his eyes welling up with tears, his brow was furrowed, his shoulders hunched. And now was when he finally stared into her eyes. His gaze sliced through her, like a hot knife through butter.

 

“Fitz! Wait, I didn’t mean it like that…” But it was too late. She was too late. And now he was gone. The tears she had desperately tried to hold back were now flooding her cheeks, she couldn’t hold her despair in anymore. She let herself fall to the floor, wailing in agony at what had just happened. She just kept hurting him, time and time again.

 

For Jemma Simmons, it was one step forward, 4722 steps back.

 

***

 

Bobbi happened to be passing the lab when she saw Jemma on the floor and rushed to her side. With a concerned look on her face, she questioned, “Jemma, what’s wrong?”

 

“Fitz…He…I couldn’t…,” she choked, trying to get the words out. “It’s my fault,” was all Bobbi could decipher through her muffled cries.

 

“Hey, hey, come here,” Bobbi replied, pulling her into an embracing hug.

 

They sat on the floor, with their backs to the wall for quite some time. Jemma’s head was leant on Bobbi’s shoulder, with her fingers rubbing Jemma’s back in circular motions, trying to comfort her.

 

“It’s going to be alright. You two will get through this, always have, always will,” remarked Bobbi, “It will all work out in the end.” Yet despite her constant reassurances, Jemma knew it was far from it.

 

“I don’t know why I keep hurting him like this.” She finally said, after what seemed like hours of crying.

 

“You aren’t doing it intentionally, Jemma. It wasn’t your fault you got dumped into this situation. You’re angry and confused. I’m sure he knows you mean the best.”

 

Did he though? At this point, Jemma thought she had hurt him so much that she wondered if they were even friends anymore.

 

***

 

Fitz had promised to both Jemma and himself that he would not get emotionally involved, yet he had broken down in front of her. His mind kept repeating the conversation over and over again. “Stop caring about me so much!” she had said. It wasn’t as simple as that. He could never stop caring about her. No matter what she did, he would always be there for her.

 

Then she had said something which tore his heart in two.

 

“I know how much it hurts you to know you are helping me bring back someone I love.” That was breaking point for him. He knew it prior to this conversation, of course. But it somehow felt infinitely worse when she had articulated it directly; it was an unspoken truth which made his world just that much darker. The weight of her words was too much; he couldn’t take it, so he had walked out.

 

_Idiot Fitz! You claim to be her friend, yet you make her life so bloody difficult!_

 

He let out a humourless laugh at that: friend. Breathing out a huge sigh, Fitz wondered if they were even friends anymore.

 

***

 

Two weeks had passed since the incident, and neither Fitz nor Jemma wanted to be in the same room as each other, for fear that another argument would erupt. So, Fitz stayed within the confines of the lab, hard at work reading periodicals on recent developments in quantum mechanics. Jemma stayed mainly in her room, doing the exact same thing. They both knew that they were nowhere near as efficient individually than if they were working together.

 

However, neither wanted to intrude the others’ space, for fear of propelling their already decrepit relationship into oblivion. Yet they both knew they would have to talk to each other at some point, the flight to Australia was due to depart in little under three days, and they hadn’t spoken in a fortnight.

 

Jemma had finished making herself a cuppa and was heading towards her room, when she rounded a corner and bumped into the exact person she had been avoiding.

 

“I-I’m sorry” she stuttered, not wanting to look him in the eyes.

 

“No…no, it’s fine” he replied, “It’s my fault.”

 

And then they stood there, rather awkwardly, for what seemed like eternity, until Fitz decided to speak up, “Um, listen, the flight leaves in a couple of days. Are you…um…all packed and stuff?”

 

“Yes, I’m good to go.”

 

Of course she was ready; this was Jemma Simmons after all. The woman who excelled at preparation. She would be ready for a hail storm in the middle of Summer.

 

“Right…” he mumbled, trying to hold dialogue but able to think of nothing, “Well…”

 

He yearned to not let the conversation run dry; he hadn’t spoken to her in weeks, yet thought it would be best not to push her into anything she didn’t want to do, so he turned around, and was about to head off when…

 

“Fitz, wait!” the words tumbled out of her mouth quickly, spoken in almost a throaty whisper. He knew the tone, and could tell she wanted _that talk_. The one he’d been dreading.

 

He turned around and began, “Jemma, we don’t have to--” but was interrupted immediately by the sound of her voice.

 

“Will you stop interrupting me for one second, and just listen?!” she shouted, a little too harshly. She brought her left hand up to her temple, rubbing it trying to relax the throbbing pain in her head. She was frustrated, and she could tell that he knew.

 

“I’m sorry. I just have to tell you this,” she began, her voice shaking more than ever, “What happened in the lab before, I shouldn’t have snapped at you for caring about my health. That wasn’t right of me.”

 

He opened his mouth, about to speak, but she continued briskly, wanting to get what she needed out of her system, “And I’m sorry for roping you into this, it’s not fair. You know how I,” she paused, not quite knowing how to phrase it; “You know how I feel about Will.”

 

That last sentence was a lie. She didn’t know how she truly felt about Will, she was still undecided. But it was best that Fitz thought that she had feelings for Will, rather than her telling Fitz that she didn’t know, because then Fitz would’ve thought there might be hope for them. She had decided that giving Fitz hope and taking it away was worse than straight up telling Fitz that she had feelings for Will. After all, anything could happen once they got Will back. If she ended up falling for Will, then it would be unfair for Fitz if the “Maybe there is” was dissolved into nothing more than a pipe dream.

 

“So, if you don’t want to do this, I wouldn’t be the least bit annoyed, or upset or angry at you for backing down,” she finished, letting out a breath she didn’t quite know she was holding.

 

“Jemma, if you know me at all, and I’d like to think you do after all these years, you’d know that backing down is not an option…it never was. I’m with you in this till the end,” he replied with finality in his voice, staring into her eyes after so many weeks of almost no contact.

 

“I couldn’t be more sorry for walking out on you like I did, it was selfish and petulant. I can’t even begin to understand the situation you are in. I know I said before that I’d be sure to keep my emotions in check, but this time I truly will,” he croaked, tears filling his blue eyes, making them look glassy and giving them a certain lustre. This time, she returned his gaze, with a glint of hope in her hazel globes; the kind of hope indicative of their friendship on the mend. He continued warily, “How about we put all of this behind us, and look to the future?”

 

Without warning, Jemma dove towards Fitz and folded her arms tightly around him, pulling him into an enveloping hug, and resting her head on the nook of his shoulder. “I’d want nothing more,” she replied in a touch above a whisper. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her and they stood there, for what seemed like an eternity, basking in each others’ presence. She could feel his warmth. She could smell his distinct aroma of tea, metal and books. She could hear his heart beating. Not wanting to lose a second more, she only dissolved further into his embrace; this was what she had missed. And in that moment, they forgot about their worries, their fears, and their anxieties, and found solace in the fact that maybe their relationship wasn’t destined to be blown to kingdom come.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the next chapter!
> 
> I'm really sorry for uploading the chapter quite late; I was busy with work, then got distracted by holidays.  
> It's up now, so if anyone is still reading, here it is!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The days that followed were somewhat less awkward, though both were still wary of hurting the other. They both engrossed themselves in conversation in the lab, and were making small talk outside of it. To Jemma, it felt like the start of their academy days, when they had first spoken after getting partnered up in chem lab. They weren’t quite at the “old married couple” stage yet; no bickering or bantering, no finishing each other’s sentences, but they were making good progress, and both were happy at where they were at now. Their friendship seemed so fragile at the moment, and neither wanted to push it, let alone discuss the possibility of _something_ _more_.

 

The flight was due to leave tomorrow morning, and Coulson had already discussed what their false identities would be. Much to their dismay, Daisy had done ‘research’ on names based on their ‘heritage’ (as she had put it) and had, in her words “scientifically concluded” that to attract the least attention, Fitz should go by Duncan McElroy, and Simmons should be known as Evelyn Ramsbottom. Before either could argue, they were each chucked folders with all their undercover details, and Agent May proceeded to give them their back stories, which Simmons made sure to learn off by heart, considering the likelihood of her churning out a successful lie was like finding a flying cactus.

 

The very next morning, they caught a Quinjet to Los Angeles International, and hopped on their flight to Sydney, with Fitz making sure to voice his opinion over the prospect of such a long trip.

 

“Ugh…fourteen hours stuck in a cold, pressurised metal tube flying 35 000 feet above the Pacific,” groaned Fitz, “Certainly my cuppa tea.”

 

Simmons merely rolled her eyes, adding “You’re the one who wanted to do this in the first place, Fitz! Stop complaining so much, and just try to relax.”

 

Fitz grunted, shuffling in his seat, and decided to flick through the in-flight entertainment, and his face lit up when he stumbled on Doctor Who 50th anniversary special episode. He had fond memories of that particular day: November 23rd, 2013. Jemma and he were cuddled up on her bed in her dorm at the academy, with popcorn, drinks and ice cream watching the special with glee. Back then, everything seemed so simple, their relationship was purely platonic, none of these complicated feelings. He almost envied their naivety back then; of course, that was a lifetime ago. He glanced at Jemma, who was sat beside him in the window seat. She had changed so much since their academy days; she was now stronger, braver and wiser. But now she seemed to be carrying a burden; it was like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. Fitz couldn’t figure out how to fix it, to fix her. And he couldn’t bear it. He had spent many sleepless nights mulling over their broken friendship, and he hated himself for letting it come to this. Maybe this trip could take her mind of things for a while. Maybe it could take her mind to a simpler time when it was just science. He was distracted from his train of thought when the familiar theme tune played on the screen in front of him. If Doctor Who couldn’t distract him from his woes, then it was going to be a _long_ flight.

 

Simmons glanced across at Fitz, who looked to be deeply engrossed in Doctor Who. She smiled to herself, as all the nostalgia of their earlier days came flooding back. All those late nights spent revising for the next day’s lectures, exams, and labs; them falling asleep on Jemma’s bed after intensive study sessions; Fitz groaning at being woken up early the next day… Now it was so much more complicated, and she still didn’t know what her feelings were for the man sitting next to her. She loved him to death of course, but whether it was romantic or familial love, she couldn’t quite tell.

 

On top of that, there was of course the elephant in the room: Will. She had spent six months of her life on that desolate blue planet with him, and when she had lost all hope of getting back, he had rebuilt her, given her something to live for. And then they had fallen for each other. She couldn’t just leave him there, but she was breaking someone else to bring Will back. Was that fair? No it wasn’t, but Fitz was both too adamant to admit it, and too focused on ensuring her happiness that he was forgetting about himself. She stole another glance at her best friend sitting beside her, grinning at something the Doctor (well, one of the three doctors) had said. Her eyes drifted down to his lips, and her mind instantly took her back to that day that his lips were drawn to hers. That kiss had felt great. No, it had felt _exhilarating_. She didn’t want it to though. She wanted to hate it, to feel nothing there. That way, it was nice and simple, her choice would have been clear. But the reality was far from it.

 

These thoughts were interrupted as a voice boomed over the PA system, “Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We have reached cruising altitude, and will expect to reach Kingsford Smith airport in approximately fourteen and a half hours. Though you may move around in the cabin, we recommend you keep your seatbelts fastened when seated in case we hit any unexpected turbulence. Should you have any questions or concerns, please don’t hesitate to talk to our friendly cabin crew. We hope you enjoy your flight to Sydney.” Her mind suddenly raced back to why they were on this trip in the first place: to find a way to bring back Will. She heaved out a massive sigh; if these thoughts were going to plague her for the next fourteen and a half hours, it was going to be a _long_ flight.

 

The flight was just over half way, and as expected, Fitz was more than pleased when the flight attendants came through the aisle with food. The cabin lights were then dimmed so the passengers could sleep throughout the night, with Jemma deciding to try to get some rest while she could. She hadn't slept for the past few weeks, being restless throughout the night, strangled by her thoughts and her guilt, her never ending pit of guilt. Yet she wondered if maybe she could have more luck getting her forty winks tonight, because Fitz was right there beside her. She had contemplated knocking on Fitz's door on those restless nights, wondering if she may have the comfort of her best friend to help keep those strangling thoughts at bay. But she had concluded that it would've been selfish; asking your best friend who had feelings for you, to help comfort your thoughts of leaving behind another man you fell in love with. But now was different, she was right next to Fitz, and though she would never tell him, despite the cramped leg room, freezing cold air conditioning, and noisy passengers, she had the most peaceful sleep in ages, right next to her best friend in the world.

 

Jemma felt the tug of a hand drag her from her slumber. She slowly blinked her eyes, and realised she was staring at Fitz ear. She slowly lifted her head and wiped away the sleep from her eyes. As she oriented herself, a bright blue pair of eyes was staring back at her.

 

He smiled gently as he spoke, "Hello."

 

"Hi," she croaked, realising as she spoke that her voice came out throaty and hoarse.

 

"You fell asleep on my shoulder, and you looked quite peaceful, so I didn't want to disturb you. How was your rest?"

 

"Terrific," she replied sincerely. _Although bloody disappointing that it ended so soon._

 

"Well, good to see you're nice and refreshed. The plane will be landing soon."

 

He beamed at her, and then went back to watching what looked to be Doctor Who on the screen.

 

The landing itself was quite bumpy, and Jemma was sure the pilot must not have had much experience landing the behemoth that was the 747. They walked through the Kingsford Smith airport, picked up their luggage and took a taxi to the place that Fitz had booked weeks prior.

 

The Royal Albert seemed like one of the more posh hotels in Sydney, and as they stepped inside, it felt quite like something out of a fairy tale. The place definitely had a sense of grandeur, Jemma observed. It had a high ceiling, several exquisite chandeliers, leather couches, a large fireplace, the whole lot. They walked across the marble floor towards the reception and were greeted by a rather old woman. She looked to be in her fifties, and seemed to be trying really hard not to show it. Her face was coated in what must’ve been fifty layers of foundation, her lips painted in a dark red hue, and her hair was tied in a neat bun. As they approached, she looked up from her computer and Jemma could see tell tale signs that this woman frequently had Botox injections, for her eyebrows seemed to have a permanent arch to them.

 

"Welcome to Royal Albert. How may I help you today?" she spoke in a really high class accent, enunciating every word crystal clear. She could probably make the Queen sound like a commoner, Fitz thought.

 

"We have a reservation for a room with two single beds for two nights," Fitz replied while handing the reservation paperwork towards the woman.

 

Jemma could swear the woman’s eyebrows rose even more than she thought was physically possible as she spoke once more, "I see, let me check to see if your rooms are available."

 

Roughly a minute later, she spoke again, "Mr McElroy and Mrs...uh...Sheepsbottom?"

 

"Ramsbottom," Jemma corrected through gritted teeth.

 

"Sorry, Mrs Ramsbottom," she had quite the look of disapproval on her face, but her tone was neutral and emotionless as she continued, "Our booking system had some technical difficulties a few days ago, and some reservations were terminated. I understand that you wish to book 2 single beds, but all have been occupied. We've got one room left, with a double bed, if you are willing to take it."

 

"That is unacceptable!" Fitz snapped at the receptionist, who was slightly taken aback from the quick transition from docile Fitz to hot tempered Fitz.

 

"We paid good money for that reservation!"

 

Jemma put a hand on Fitz shoulder to calm him, and took him to the side, out of the receptionist's earshot.

 

"Fitz, you can't lose your temper over something as trivial as this," Jemma spoke softly, trying to pacify the temper flared Scotsman, "It's not like we haven't slept on the same bed before!"

 

Fitz stared at her, as if he wasn't registering what she was saying. When he finally did process it, his mouth was a perfect 'O', with his eyebrows furrowed. He looked so adorable like this, Jemma thought.

 

"Jemma, that was before we joined Coulson's team, before we went out into the field, before you fell in love with Will." He stopped abruptly, his eyes as wide as saucers, as he processed what he had said. Jemma felt her heart drop into her stomach; when he had voiced it like _that_ , it felt a million times worse. Tears threatened to flood her cheeks, and she struggled to keep them at bay.

 

She had promised herself to try and keep as calm and collected throughout this trip, but controlling her shaking voice was very much an uphill battle at present.

 

"Look, we don't have many other options right now. It's the holidays, and most hotels have been booked. If we don't take this right now, we will probably end up having to sleep on the street."

 

Fitz glanced at her, his gaze shouting a thousand words that he would never say. Then he briskly nodded, and turned to the receptionist, who pretended to ignore their debacle as soon as he turned around.

 

"We'll take it," he said quietly.

 

"Wonderful," the receptionist replied, her words laced with a saccharine sweetness that made Jemma want to throw up, "Your room is on the third floor, seventh door to your left, room 308. We hope you have a pleasant stay, Mr McElroy and Mrs Cowsbottom."

 

Jemma was pretty much ready to slap that woman in the face, and would've gotten to do it too, had Fitz not dragged her away towards the elevator, and frantically pressed buttons to get them up to their floor.

***

As they stepped into the quaint room, they were both quite taken aback. In keeping with the grandeur of the hotel’s lobby, the room was equally ostentatious; the room was lit by two lamps on either side of the double bed, the curtains and carpet both had a regal vibe to them, the furnishings were ornate. Overall, the atmosphere of the room was clearly intended to be decadent, perhaps even romantic, which was the last thing Jemma wanted. Heck, there were even mints on the bloody pillows!

 

"Right," Fitz said, clearly as taken aback from the lavish room as she was, "Well, I'll take the couch."

 

"Fitz, stop being so bloody ridiculous!” Jemma retaliated, before adding more quietly, “That bed is sufficient for the both of us."

 

"Jemma, there are a multitude of reasons why I'm not going to sleep next to you." He replied, somewhat gloomily, "with everything that's been going on, I just...I'd rather not make it more complicated than it already is." He said, averting his eyes from hers.

 

Jemma felt as if the air had been taken out of her, and her floodgates were threatening to burst again, liquid sadness threatening to fall down her cheeks. She couldn't break down over something like this. So, not trusting her voice enough to speak without crying, she gave him a nod, turned around and walked towards the master bedroom. She closed the door, sat down, leaning her back against it, and finally let the tears roll down her face. Bringing Will back was going to destroy the possibility of "something more" between her and Fitz, she knew that long before she asked Fitz to help her. But when it was happening right in front of her, it felt infinitely worse.

 

Was bringing Will back even worth it? But he'd been stuck on that blasted planet for fourteen years, and saved her life in more ways than one. It would’ve been selfish for her not to bring him back. But that was destroying her relationship with Fitz. Why couldn’t kissing Fitz have meant nothing? Why did she have to feel crestfallen when he pulled away from her lips? Why couldn’t things have been simpler? She ducked her head in her arms, and let out a few sobs lodged in her throat. She wanted to scream out to the world: why was she being put through such torture?

 

Jemma was interrupted from these thoughts when she heard a rap on the door.

 

"Jemma, are you alright?" Fitz asked, concern clearly present in his tone.

 

"I'm fine, just getting changed," Jemma replied in the most convincing voice she could muster.

 

She waited a moment until she heard footsteps receding from the door, and heaved out a massive sigh.

 

Not even 24 hours, and she was already an emotional train wreck.


End file.
